I should have been offended. He was treating the incident as if he had left in the middle of dinner. But something about the way he said 'fuckable' sent a glowing shock right down to my pussy. Men could do it. Tristan could do it. I could do it too. Just have someone, even if only once, just because they were desirable, just because they were 'fuckable'.
I put on my best casual sexy. "You're not half bad yourself, Mr. King."
"See you tomorrow night," he purred. I could picture the half smile on the perfect face. A face I still wanted to see wandering all over my naked body.
"Goodnight, Tristan."
***
I dressed with a lot more care than usual for rehearsal. I wore a denim mini skirt that wouldn't scream 'dressed up' and a bandana print halter top. It was a good look for me and I purposely chose it for the accessibility factor. If a certain man wanted to touch me, there wasn't a lot in the way.
Tom was sitting with a dark-haired man in the third row when I arrived. He introduced me to Roger Maynard when I sat down. He told me Roger was an 'old friend' of the theater and stopped by to say hello to the guys. Roger was an extremely handsome man with delicate, almost feminine features. He would have made a very good looking woman.
The cast arrived and Roger greeted each one of them with great warmth. When Tristan arrived they hugged each other like brothers but I saw a look of darkness flicker over Tristan's face. When rehearsal started, Roger watched until the first break and then said his good-byes.
"Tristan, don't be a stranger, man. I'm still your friend, you know." Roger said as he embraced Tristan again.
"I know that Roger. I know." There was sadness in his voice when he answered. "I've been real busy. And…well…"
"I understand. Give me a call anytime you feel like talking."
The actors took the stage again but the rest of the practice seemed subdued. There was something unspoken and it seemed that all understood except me.
Tristan missed his blocking near the middle of the act and I called out for him to move downstage. He glowered at me and went. The next time I corrected him he said, "Speak up, will you?" I repeated myself unsure of why he seemed so sullen and menacing.
"Pick up the glass…" I told him, interrupting one of his speeches.
"Raina, if you're going to correct me, do it so I can hear you!"
"I'm sorry. It's just that you…intimidate me."
"Well," he thundered from up on the stage, "don't be so goddamned intimidated!"
I could feel the burn in my cheeks and the threat of tears behind my eyes. I blinked them back and busied myself with my notes. When he missed his blocking the next time, I didn't correct him. I figured I'd let someone else point it out. But no one did. It seemed I wasn't the only one Tristan intimidated.
The rehearsal concluded and everyone seemed in a hurry to get out of the theater. There was a melancholy pall in the air. Act 3 was the dark conclusion to a dark drama, but the cast's mood was not usually so. As I cleared the mess in the green room I tried to sort out the mystery of the night. Clearly, Roger had something to do with Tristan's mood. I had been expecting flirtation culminating in seduction. Instead, I was feeling frustrated and confused.
Tristan was lounging on a 'bed' that was stuck in front of some scenery flats when I came out. The house lights were still on, but Tom had killed the stage lights so the low backstage lighting was the only illumination. It would have been easy to miss him in the shadows, but again I felt him before I saw him.
"Come join me in bed." He patted the wooden platform beside him. His torso was against the headboard and the foreshortened bed wasn't long enough for his legs to stretch out. His knees stuck up at an angle.
I went over and sat on the edge of the bed, facing him. He looked tired. There were dark circles under his eyes and they seemed to sparkle a little less than usual. He surprised me by pulling me toward him and holding me against his chest. I could feel him breathing against my hair. He stroked my bare back gently. I sighed a small sigh as my flesh yielded to his touch.
His heart beat under my cheek and the smell of his skin seeped through his shirt. There was so much I wanted to ask him, but I couldn't bring myself to break the spell of that moment. When he lifted my face to his the kiss was all I wanted. Questions could wait.
It was as if he wanted to kiss the world away. His mouth was eager against me, searching mine with his tongue. He took my lower lip between his teeth and nibbled in quick, hot bites. When my tongue sought his, he sucked it into his mouth hungrily.
He trailed warm wet kisses down my neck as his hands went around to my bare back. He had no trouble releasing the bottom of my halter top and slipping it off over my head. My nipples were screaming for his touch. It seemed to me that the purpose of their puckered reach was to let him find them quicker.
"So perfectly beautiful," he murmured at the sight of my bare breasts. Taking them both into his hands he leaned down to suck at my straining nipples. The touch of his mouth on them sent wave after wave of electric arousal to my pussy. He twisted them both between his fingers as his mouth returned to conquer my lips yet again.
I wanted to feel the hard shape of his cock again. I had only had the briefest contact and now I wanted more. So. Much. More. He was rigid under his khakis. I stroked the thick shaft that strained under the fabric and the sound he made at my touch was the growl of pursuit. He pushed against my hand welcoming me to free him and bare his skin to mine.
Tristan's fingers were inside me again. He pushed aside the tiny triangle of silk that covered my sex and my body drenched his hand with the liquid of my lust. I rocked against his fingers as he sought the spot that would free me to abandon. His thumb worked magic on my clit, soft and hard, slow and fast, directed by the turn of my hips against his seeking touch.
I unbuckled his belt and wrestled the taut zipper of his fly down. As I reached under the elastic of his boxers, I felt him hit the elusive place inside me that I thought only I knew existed. Even as my hand reached to release him, I could feel myself edging closer to a climax. I could only hold onto him as my pleasure built and I felt the quickening rhythm of orgasm begin to lap at my edges.
"You're so wet, so supple. God, what a woman you are."
I began to grind harder against him as a climax started to draw around me. His fingers were having an effect on me that I had never experienced through a man's touch.
"It's so good. Oh, so good."
"That's right. That's the way…" he encouraged me to abandon myself to him.